Italia
by scoutfinches
Summary: Set after the events of Go Set A Watchman. Jean Louise, still angered by the betrayals made by her father and Henry, takes the next train out of Maycomb Junction, and heads off to find her old childhood friend and sweetheart.
1. Chapter 1

It didn't matter how much my father said, or how much I loved him. I admit wholeheartedly that I was and still am fuming. About everything.

I hitched a ride on the first train out of town in the dead of night.

Headed for Chicago. And I had a hunch about where I was going to go next.

I sat down in my roomette, not bothering to even think about sleep, but to think about everything in general.

I thought about the fact that my aunt was actually right for once. Not about my clothing or points of view, but about Henry.

"He came from trash, therefore, he is."

I thought about my uncle, and how he was nuttier than a fruitcake. And about the secrets he had about caring for Rose Almyer, his cat. He fed her crackers and scraps, but it didn't really kill her. In a way, I loved my uncle, but it another, I could never forgive him.

That brings me to my last thought, which made my ears metaphorically steam in anger.

Atticus. My father.

For twenty six years, our minds were tied together in a giant knot. Woven together like a net. They were images that were too challenging to pull apart and separate.

When I came home that day on the train, and after, I felt betrayed by his new-found ideals and perspective. I threw up when I first heard, and that's when I realized it, as we passed into Tennessee in the night.

He deliberately pretended to be a racist. And a member of the council. To tinker with me, until I finally untied myself from his conscience.

It worked. It worked so well, like the many things he had achieved, and _that's_ the reason I was so angry.

His lawyer's persuasion wrapped around my mind and body like a noose, until it tightened and choked me.

I wanted to call him, and forgive him, but that had to wait.

It had to wait until I got to Chicago. Too far away to try and bring me back home. And not the home and I knew and loved either.

The home with the chinaberry trees and the many memories of my childhood and Boo Radley was nonexistent.

Instead, it was Mel's Dairy Dream.

And Boo didn't know that. And Dill didn't know that either.

 _Dill, at least you have some sense. I tthink I'm going to come back for you. In Italy. How does that sound?_

I admit, as the end of my relationship with Henry neared, I dreamt more about Dill and our childhood antics. And how the both of us still remained unmarried after all of those years. And how I read his words only by telegram after the war.

 _I still love you, I'm coming, Dill. I'm coming right your way._

I longed to write him and warn him of my arrival, but my head was spinning and I was drifting away.

All I could think about before I closed my sleepy eyes was the letter I left for my father before I left.

"Dear Atticus,

I know that this pilgrimage was the only one I'd make this year. And I know you wanted me to stay the entire time, but the thing is, I don't fit in. I never will. I'll never fit in with your damned council. And all I feel anymore around the lot of you is not respect, but spit in my face. Maybe next year, we can come to terms.

Sincerely,

Scout."

Sincerely wasn't even the word to describe it. Maybe, I didn't want to sound too harsh.

It didn't matter, I realized, as I flew into a dream. It didn't matter.

It sounded too harsh anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

"I'd like one ticket to Rome, please. The earliest one you've got." I tapped my feet and handed the airline manager the little money I had.

I only had enough in my pocket left for a taxi cab. And maybe a hotel.

When I first moved to New York, before I got an editorial job, that was my line of work.

It's interesting how time flies by.

After I received my ticket, I walked to my hangar with my luggage and tried to forget my last airplane experience..yThe pilot insisted to fly into a tornado. And that, was absolutely no fun.

I want to sleep. My eyes were tired, and it was early in the morning. But I had to keep myself going.

For only twenty more minutes, I thought. I can do this.

I was determined to battle the sandman harder than I had battled my father a few days earlier. Anything at all to get me to Italy would have made me happy. And the Graham genes in me were telling me it was the worst way to go.

 _Sleep problems, heart problems, and just problems. We're all unlucky, aren't we?_

The plane finally arrived and I sat in my seat, right by the window. A tall, dark man. He was the kind of man that reminded me of my father. He was middle aged, dressed nicely, and wore a pocket watch around his neck.

"It's going to be a long flight, isn't it?" The man tried to strike up conversation with me.

I nodded. "I guess so."

He laughed, "You guess? We've got to fly over the Atlantic Ocean!"

"I know that." I said, then covering my face with my coat, trying as hard as I could to ignore him.

"I didn't think you did. I'm sorry."

"I'm a writer," I mutter. "I'm not stupid. I know about everything this flight and this trip entails. I decided to get on this plane to Rome for a reason I don't think you understand. A reason that I think you wouldn't care for either. If you excuse me, I need to get up and move. I see a vacant seat by a woman with more common sense and respect for others. Have a nice evening, _sir."i_

I got up, walked away, and sat down next to the woman. She was dressed in a vaguely familiar outfit from year's past. Her eyes were in a newspaper. They were on an article _I_ wrote.

 _The Wrongs of Racism: Injustice of The South, by Jean Louise Finch._

"You've really made a name for yourself, Scout. I've missed you."

It was none other than her former neighbor, Miss Maudie Atkinson.

"I've missed you too!" I wrapped her in a bear hug as the plane took off, descending into the sky.

"So, Maudie, why are you flying to Italy?"

Miss Maudie closed the newspaper and turned to me, "Well, I needed a vacation. I saved up my pennies and decided, why not fly to Italy? Nobody else in Maycomb's been there!"

I laughed, agreeing with her. She asked me why I was headed that way as well.

"I'm going to visit Dill. And see what he's up to."

"Dill? In Italy? Well.. As a friend, or something more? He said you were his fiancee back in the day."

I took a deep breath and told her the truth. One that in reality, I had no harm to reveal to her or anybody else.

"I wanted to find him to tell him that I love him."

Maudie's eyes widened, and she smiled, "I've been waiting to hear that for years now! I'm guessing you finally heard about Henry, didn't you?"

I sighed, "Yes. He wasn't worth it. Not one bit."

"It took a while for both of us, dear. He was going to those meetings, and it contradicted every idea in your writing.. I didn't know how you put up with it. But I realize that it's because you didn't know a thing."

"You're right. That's exactly it." I still couldn't believe all that had happened.

"No matter how much they tried to convince me to stay, I couldn't. I was just exhausted by everything. All of the betrayal and all of.. Everything Just shocked me. I need a break. I need out."

Maudie nodded her head, "I understand, dear. I do. If you need anything else while we're here, you let me know."

I said that I would. And the plane took off, up into the air.

For a long while, we rested in the plane. We were given a meal. We looked out the window. And I ended up falling asleep on her shoulder.

When I woke up, the man from earlier had stood right in front of our row. He had an angry expression on his face, and Maudie was shouting at him. I was too tired to understand what she was saying. Not until I sat up and stretched my legs.

"I'm in love with her, I have the right to take her back!"

 _What in God's name is he t"alking about? What's he doing?_

"You clearly explained you had no intention to take her seriously, I heard everything you said! And that was just about sitting next to her. She was angry because you told her, an intelligent young woman, that she was naive and oblivious. That, for her, is a horrid insult. She doesn't take it when people tell her things like that. You, sir, have had too much to drink! Go away!"

My head was spinning, trying to figure out what was happening. Hostesses tried to restrain the man, who smelled intensely of vodka and whiskey.

"You're both a bunch of cowards! Sick, sleazy cowards! You're missing out on a better life, sweetie! Your daddy didn't say what he did because he cared about you!" He slurred his words and stumbled down the aisle, not being able to distinguish between anything in the plane.

I waited until he was long gone, in another section of the plane, before asking Maudie what happened.

"He wanted to date you, dear. He wouldn't accept your rejection and took it out on me."

"He never asked me anything.." I said, while rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"I know. He was drunk. They willingly gave him those bottles because he paid for them."

I nodded my head yes, I knew what she meant.

After a few more long hours, the plane landed. Maudie and I said our goodbyes; we both had different plans for our trips to Italy.

It was dark out, from what I could tell from the windows. I took a bathroom break and bought myself a chocolate bar to keep myself going while I looked for a taxi.

 _It's been quite a day... Maybe I need to rest.._

I went against my own instincts and headed outside.

Taxis were picking up other people, going to predetermined locations.

I had no clue where to go. And being the only woman wearing slacks, I had a feeling I wouldn't get far.

I sat on a bench and ate the last quarter of my candy bar, staring out at the rainy, neon street.

After I felt more energized, I stood up and stared at the cars, playing a game of "I Spy" with myself.

I spied a yellow Mercedes Benz driving down the road, headed away from the city. I found it very interesting to watch, and my eyes kept following it down the street.

As it laddering front of the airport, it made a u-turn and sped my way.

The car stopped right in front of me. The driver's door opened, and before I knew it, Dill wrapped his arms around me, crying happy tears.

"Jean Louise.. I can't believe you're here..."

I wasn't sure if it was the rain or his tears on his face. He was completely covered with water.

We were soaked. Completely.

I laughed, "Well, I can!"

"Why'd you come here?" He asked, while putting a hand on the side of my face. I put my hand right above his, realizing how much I missed his touch.

"I missed you, Dill. I came back for you."

"Why? " He was confused. "Don't you have Henry?"

I gave him my own confused look. "No, Dill. I left him." I gave him a warm smile, "I'm in love with you."

He pulled me close, and our faces were barely an inch apart.

"I'm in love with you too. I never stopped being in love with you."

Instead of answering him, I kissed his lips in the rain.

I waited far too long for that moment, and thought I'd found it years before.

I was wrong, dead wrong.

This kiss with Dill was special. I felt it from my head to the tips of my toes.

I never felt that with Henry. And I never felt it with anyone else.

It was Dill and only Dill.

When we pulled apart, we looked deep into each other's eyes.

For a while, we stood in silence.

Then we laughed.

"Scout, it's quite late. You want to go to my place?"

I hugged him tightly one last time, "I'd love to."

Then, we drove off in the dark, Roman night.

And we never looked back.


	3. Chapter 3

Three months went by, and I still hadn't even considered going back home.

Dill and I lived in a small apartment by the Mediterranean, in a small bustling village of hard working, blue collar Italians.

I got myself a new job working for an Italian branch of an American newspaper, typing up news stories for people like myself, who would never speak the language.

Despite that, I had become a popular figure within the village. While Dill went off to his own work, I sat on our small balcony on sunny days and did my work there.

The same people passed by at the same times almost every afternoon. A man on a rusty bicycle started it all, calling me by the name of "writer Americano". Then, I'd hear it quite a bit from the others, all making sure I acknowledged their existence from above.

Not only that, but I made friends with the English speaking women in town, who didn't mind my more masculine way of dress. In fact, they praised it.

Today was just any other day in our little village. I began writing and the people went on by, calling to me like usual.

I was settled and I was pretty happy, writing about a topic I was all too familiar with; racism.

I took a break and sipped from my glass of water, looking at my view of the sea and my view of the street.

That's when I heard a knock on the door.

When Dill came home, he never knocked the door.

It wasn't him. It was too early anyway.

"Scout?" The voice called from behind. "Listen, I'm sorry. I think we still have a chance. I came all the way here to find you. I'm sorry."

It was Henry. A week earlier, he sent a telegram. I don't know how he found me. But I didn't answer that either.

I remembered that Atticus had Dill's telegram, but I had no clue they'd correctly guess where I was.

"Scout! I know you're up there! I saw you typing! You're here and I want to talk to you!"

I sighed, getting up from my chair and heading to the door, and then I stopped. I had no desire to even look at him.

"We don't have a chance, Henry." I said.

"Why? I came all the way here!"

"I'm living with another man, Henry, who agrees with me. I don't know why you still think I love you, and why you thought I'd take you back. I came here for Dill, I didn't come here to go back home. I refuse."

Henry laughed to himself. "You came for that scrawny boy from Meridian?"

"Who else would I come here for?"

"Well, I don't know! Me?"

"No, Henry. I'm going back to work now, I don't want to hear any more of this. Have a nice life, and please, take the first plane home."

I walked away from the door, and sat back down. I saw Henry rushing towards my balcony from below, shouting.

"Jean Louise! Your father wants you back home!"

"Well, I'm staying here! Tell him maybe next year! Or as a matter of fact, tell yourself! You're turning into him! Good riddance, Henry!"

He stopped speaking but watched me from below, trying to intimidate me with his presence.

The hours ticked by and neither of us would budge and let the other win. Not until six, when Dill usually neared the building.

He saw Henry standing there and approached him. He was quiet due to the distance between us, but I heard him quite clearly

"Henry, I know this is a shock to you, but you can't always get what you want. You can take Atticus's position all you want. Hell, you can be him if you want! But don't you dare ever try and take my place again. You worked hard to get there, I can tell, but it didn't work out very well, did it? I remember Scout telling me something her aunt said about you, and she said she should've listened."

"Oh! And what's that?"

"That you're trash. You came from trash. And you'll always be trash." Dill turned and walked away from Henry, leaving him confused and belittled in the street.

It took a while, but Henry had let me win once and for all.

Dill walked in the door and came behind me and kissed my cheek, as I stared down at the bustling street in shock.

Henry was still standing there, cursing to himself.

"Are you all right, Scout?" Dill asked, rubbing my shoulders.

"Yeah." I took a deep breath. "Let's go inside. I've had enough for the day."

We took the typewriter inside and shut the French doors behind us.

Dill made me dinner, and I watched him, trying to hide my distress.

"Scout, I can't believe that man came after you.. I just wish they'd all respect your decision. Because if I were you, I think I would've done the same."

He was simmering tomato sauce, and I wrapped my arms around him, "I know, and there's nothing we can do about them and what they think."

"Well, maybe we can. I got a telegram from Atticus. He wants you to come home. I know Henry sent one, but I didn't open it. I assume he said the same thing."

"How is that a good thing? Dill, I don't want to even think about him ever again!"

"He's your father. I never had a father... I'd be mighty disappointed if you didn't give him just one answer."

He was right, I knew that. But I thought it didn't _feel_ right. I didn't feel ready to say a word to Atticus yet.

"Maybe after dinner, okay?"

Dill smiled. "Baby, why's that?"

"I'm hungry!" I announced, holding him tighter.

Dill and I began to laugh.

Before I could even think of anything else, he kissed my lips. It reminded me of how lucky I was, and how happy my life had been since moving to Italy.

We almost forgot about dinner, maybe thinking of how we took each other for granted all of those years before.

It wasn't until I leaned against the stove when I remembered, jerking my hand back from the gas and pulling myself away from Dill.

"Ouch!" I screamed, shaking my hand back and forth, trying to make the pain go away.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I kept shaking my hand, knowing it was a minor burn. "It's nothing."

"It better be! I'm not losing you now, got it?"

"Got it." I stared up at the ceiling. "It's been quite the day! I think I need to sit down for a while."

"Okay, you do that. I'm going back to cooking our dinner."

He kissed my burnt hand, and then leaned close and lightly kissed my lips.

"If you want, you can look at that telegram while you wait!" He reminded me.

So, I did. And I was a little shocked by what I saw.

"Dear Scout,

I apologize. I feel awful about what happened, and I want to explain myself.

Henry was the one who went to the meetings, not me. He convinced me to join, that it'd help me have more business at the firm. Turns out, once you go in you can't go out, and I was stuck there, trying my best to be a good actor not just to them but the entire town.

I realized once you came, that I could use it all as a way to separate our consciences. You thought of me as something I never was for all of those years, and we were both tied together in a knot.

I couldn't have that, and I wanted to see you grow. So I used the cover of racism to do it, and to break us apart in that aspect.

I hope you'll come home. Henry came to fetch you. I would really enjoy seeing you tomorrow, Scout.

Love, your father,

Atticus."

After Dill and I ate, I told him what I thought of the letter.

I said that I was in fact _not_ going back home. I worked too hard to get where I was. No way.

He agreed, and said he'd rather have me in Italy with him, and we decided to write a joint letter back to him.

"Dear Atticus,

No, neither of us are coming home. Not now, and for the time being, not for a while. This has nothing to do with you, but with our own comfort and stability here in Italy.

We plan on getting married here and raising a family here. It's perfect. If you want, we can try and fly you here to live with us. We see that you have nothing to lose, maybe it'd be nice.

For now, we'll be residing in Italy for good. We both have employment and are extremely happy.

With Love,

Scout and Dill."

We thought it was satisfactory and sent the telegram my father's way the next morning. I thought of our final getting quite a bit in the days that followed.

"With much love..."

And with Dill, that's how I spent the rest of my life so far.

In Italy, by the sea, and lastly, with much love.


End file.
